Troubleshooters (Jackson Chase Novella Book 2) by Connor Black Page A

quickly as we could, crossing paths in what looked like a weave drill. Each time we saw a silver van that was close in markings, we’d race to it. Shouts from the mpigadebe , the conductor who solicited fares on each van, followed our approach each time. While we didn’t draw our weapons as we searched, they often saw our hand movements to the bulges under our shirts and went silent rather quickly.
    We had made our way down one length of the market, and were headed along the eastern side when a shape caught my eye. The rear hatch of a silver van was closing, revealing a large Pepsi logo. A circle, red on top and blue on the bottom. As I signaled to Sterba, I caught a glimpse of a male leaving the back of the van and walking down the street.
    As we came closer, I knew this was the van. The man leaving must have been Naseeb, making some final change to the bomb. I was cognizant that my mission was to bring the bomber to justice. He was just out of my reach, moving into the crowd not 15 meters away. But in front of me was a bomb, one that threatened the lives of hundreds of people in the market. And my teammate was sitting right on it. No decision was needed.
    We approached, crouching, from the blind spots on either side of the vehicle. I took the right side where the driver would be, Sterba took the left. I silently mouthed a count for Sterba to see. On three, we popped.
    I drew on the driver’s window. Empty. “Clear!” I said.
    Sterba ripped the passenger compartment side door open, weapon extended. “Chen!” he exclaimed.
    I opened the sliding door on my side of the vehicle to have Chen nearly fall into my arms. Her mouth was taped shut, and her hands were bound in a mass of duct tape to the passenger handle just inside the top of the door.
    I shouted to Sterba, “Naseeb just left. Check the back!”
    He ran around and opened the aft hatch while I pulled the tape off of Chen’s mouth.
    “Ahhh!” she shouted as the tape came off. “Bomb in the back. Remote det!”
    “On it!” Sterba replied. “Nice to have you back, Commander!”
    “Good to be back, Sterbs,” she replied. As I withdrew my knife, I took a quick look at her face. A couple of abrasions and some swelling from punches. She would hurt like hell by dinner, but for now she was mobile.
    “Jackson, we have two shells here wired to a cell phone,” Sterba said from the back of the van.
    Chen’s hands popped free, and she immediately scampered over two rows of seats to the boot. “I saw him arm it. I’ve got this. Go get the sonofabitch!”
    I looked at Sterba, who nodded. And then I took off running.
    Again, the people and vehicles scattered about were a barrier. I was looking for a shape, a color, a texture. Naseeb had been wearing a thin olive jacket. It would be topped by the rounded shape of his head, the skin slightly shiny in the large bald spot. I scanned as I ran. Left-right, left-right.
    I finally spotted him 10 meters ahead on the opposite side of the street.
    There. He was visible for only an instant, walking around to the left passenger side of a black Land Cruiser and climbing in. I sprinted with everything I had, noticing the driver’s head tilt slightly as he put the truck into gear. The driver’s side was closest and the window was down, so I had to go for him.
    I combined my running momentum with the swing of my right fist, and hit the driver’s jaw with such force that he was instantly knocked out. The vehicle had just started moving, so I grabbed the window frame with one hand and went for my weapon with the other.
    Naseeb’s eyes went wide, but the chubby man reacted immediately. His foot slammed across the floorboards and mashed the driver’s foot down on the accelerator. I hung on for a second, but Naseeb steered the vehicle out of the parking space and onto the road just as a white dala dala was trying to pass. The van hit the side of Naseeb’s truck lightly near the front, having the effect of scraping me off the side. I